


Down, But Not Out...

by Bunnie24



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnie24/pseuds/Bunnie24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a mission goes awry, Illya wakes up in the hospital in a not-so-great condition; though Waverly assures him that everything is going to be fine, Illya insists on checking on his partners though it proves to be tricky when Waverly and Solo keep Gaby at bay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hysterekly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hysterekly/gifts).



> This is my MFU Gift for Hysterekly. I'm sorry it was a bit late, but it's here now! XOXO

 

 

            It happened so fast that it was all a blur to Illya before he blacked out and awoke to being strapped down to a hospital bed; he didn't think twice as he pulled on the restraints only to find that it as no use since he had to force back a scream from the pain in his ribs.

            Illya rested on the bed, staring up at the ceiling while randomly resenting it when he heard voices from out into the hall.

            "I'm not leaving them," Illya heard Napoleon insist, his voice was firm and slightly shaken as he spoke.

            "Napoleon--you're no good to them here." Waverly spoke in response softly "There's nothing you can do." he continued on.

            Illya grinded his teeth as he listened, turning to the door of his room and watched the two shadows as they moved back and forth--while Illya wanted to call out for one of them, he couldn't manage words out when he saw Napoleon lean back and look into the room to see that Illya had awaken.

            "Peril." he said before walking into the room.

            Napoleon had a sling around his right arm with several bruises and stitches on his face, he too had been affected by whatever the team had encountered.

            Illya could only muster a groan out as he looked at Napoleon who walked towards the bed and glanced at his friend.

            "...can you talk at all?" Napoleon asked.

            Illya looked at Napoleon, opening his mouth to speak and attempted to say his partners nickname, however he struggled--his vocal cords some how unable to work as he then pounded on the mattress in frustration.

            Another pain to his ribs.

            "It's alright, Peril. You don't have to say anything." Napoleon assured him.

            Illya flared his nostrils at Napoleon when Waverly walked into the room "Ahh, Kuryakin, you're awake." he announced before turning to Napoleon "Mr. Solo, please give Illya and I a moment alone." he instructed.

            Napoleon looked over at Waverly before forcing a nod and walked out of the hospital room, closing the door behind him to let Waverly know he _wasn't_ in fact listening to their conversation.

            Waverly cleared his throat, grabbing a nearby chair and pulled it towards the bed before sitting in it "Kuryakin, I have to tell you something," he said before pulling off his glasses "It's Gaby." he said softly.

            Illya felt his stomach twist into knots--he could vaguely remember the mission, but even with his lack of memories, he knew Gaby gave him a strong emotional reaction as he glared at Waverly--waiting for him to explain.

            Waverly cleaned his glasses with his tie "...Gaby was injured. She hit her head pretty badly during the explosion, and, well...she's in a coma." he told Illya.

            Illya tensed at Waverly's words, he wished that he could talk, yell, and thrash; he wanted to get out of his bed and rush to Gaby's side, but he was restrained and mute--he resented the world in that moment.

            Waverly cleared his throat, quite uncomfortable with the way Illya was glaring at him as if his arms weren't restrained he were about to hit him...hard.

            "Kuryakin, I'm going to be honest with you; the doctors aren't sure if she'll be able to recover, wake up...but only time will tell." Waverly commented, looking down at his lap before looked up at Illya.

            Illya grinded his teeth, glaring at Waverly--wanting him to say something more, something positive...but it never came out of his mouth as Waverly gently nodded to himself before getting out of his chair.

            "You'll be here for awhile, I'm afraid. You suffered some cracked ribs as well as a concussion...and some bruising to your voice box, which is why you can't talk." Waverly went on, walking away from the bed slowly.

            Waverly stopped, then turned back to Illya "Oh, but in the meantime--the whole team is on rest. I'm afraid the whole team needs some R&R after this case." he said softly before leaving the hospital room.

            Illya glared up at the ceiling again, he couldn't talk nor move and was strapped down to this bed--he didn't like being restricted, and the news of Gaby being in a coma made his heart ache and his stomach tie into a knot.

            He flared his nostrils again as he thought about Gaby, he wanted to be near her but at the same time knew that if he did that he wouldn't be able to bare it as he continued to look up at the ceiling.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

            He was still hospital bound, but no longer bound to the bed as Illya slowly ventured out of his room every few hours or so to try and find Gaby.

            None of the hospital staff or fellow U.N.C.L.E agents that had been assigned to his security detail gave Illya any clues, or rather just flat out refused to tell him where his partner was.

            All he could think about was Gaby and how she looked and where her stats were at—the Russian didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark about her, and it infuriated him that Napoleon wasn’t helping the situation.

            “Peril, she’s fine! Trust me.” Napoleon assured Illya who flared his nostrils at him.

            Illya just wanted to punch Napoleon in the face, but he was still too weak to move his arm up and hit Napoleon's 'precious' face...he just wanted to know where Gaby was so he could see her--but that was asking for too much.

            Napoleon began to follow Illya as he walked down the hallway, peeking into each and every room on the floor he was on; Napoleon put his good hand in his pocket as he continued to follow.

            “You’re wasting your time.” Napoleon insisted.

            Illya ignored him, walking into every room before he managed to look into every one, scaring other patients while nurses and doctors glared at him as he huffed, standing in the middle of the hall in his gown.

            Napoleon huffed “Shall we go back to your room?”

            “Go away, Cowboy.” Illya muttered.

            The two men were silent, Napoleon swallowing hard before letting his typical head shake of disapproval out; he looked back up at Illya “Do you _really_ want to see her?” he asked.

            Illya turned to Napoleon “Yes.”

            Napoleon motioned his head for Illya to follow him, pressing the ‘up’ button on the elevator as he waited for Illya to stand next to him.

            “You can’t tell Waverly. He was very adamant about you _not_ seeing her, but…I truly think that if you’re near, she’ll wake up.” Napoleon admitted, staring at the elevator doors before they opened.

            Illya pushed past Napoleon and knocked his broken arm out of the way to which the C.I.A agent stood there silently in pain before inching his way into the elevator before pressing the 8th floor button.

            They were silent again, Illya tapping his thigh as he watched the floor lights move from 4, to 5, to 6...to 7--"This elevator is too slow!!" Illya hissed.

            Napoleon sighed "Illya..." he remarked, wanting to keep the Russians' emotions at bay.

            Illya snarled at Napoleon, continuing to look at the lights move when it hit the 8th floor and stopped, the doors slowly opened and Illya practically jumped out, turning to Napoleon who made his way out of the elevator as well.

            The American sighed "Follow me, I guess." he said before walking down the halls of the ICU, Illya's scowl dissipating with every room they past--and though Illya didn't want to admit it, he was scared.

            He was scared of what he'd find in the room, afraid of the damage that Gaby endured from the mission, and yet all he could do was hurry as fast as he could to the room to be with Gaby--cause that's what he needed.

            Napoleon stopped at the end of the hall, the guards should have been an indicator but Illya was too distracted by wanting to see Gaby as he walked around Napoleon and stood in the doorway.

            The room was bright and full of sunlight that bounced off the white walls and white sheets, Illya didn't even realize he was inching closer into the room while looking around at Gaby who was on the bed.

            She had seen better days, the bruises and cuts on her face as well as the swelling along her cheekbones made Illya wince from secondhand pain as he walked closer to the bed, wanting to get as close as he possible could to the bed.

            Illya didn't care that Napoleon was probably watching, in fact: he didn't want Napoleon near this room as glanced and watched over Gaby as he turned around to see his partner by the door still.

            "Leave me." Illya insisted.

            Napoleon pursed his lips "I don't think--"  
            "I SAID LEAVE!" Illya yelled, alarming everyone in a close by radius, though Illya didn't care as he continued to glare at Napoleon, waiting for him to leave.

            Napoleon sighed "Fine. Just...don't do anything...drastic?" he requested before leaving the room.

            Illya composed himself, counting to 10 as he let his fists that he had formed while yelling at Napoleon turn back into simple hands before he grabbed a nearby chair and sat nearby Gaby's face.

            He sighed, looking over the small young woman in front of him who just laid there...dormant, nothing much to do than just stare at the blanket on top of her as her chest rose and fell from her breathing.

            "Маленький ягненок...little Chop Shop girl." Illya muttered to Gaby.

            Illya reached out and pushed the bangs away from her face "I should have been there," he said to her "...I should have protected you; I should be the one lying here, not you." he said softly.

            The Russian huffed, looking down at his lap before looking up and turning to see a radio behind the bed on a tiny shelf, Illya hummed as he turned the radio on only to be alarmed by the loud, song that had immediately come on.

            " _Lovers of today, just throw their dreams away and play at love; they give their love away to anyone who'll say: I love you!_ " the Searchers song played, irritating Illya as he huffed.

            "Ах за любовь к Богу!" Illya muttered before turning the knob to another station.

            " _Wishin' and Hopin' and Thinkin' and Prayin', Plannin' and Dreamin' each night of his charms, that  won't get you into his arms..."_

Illya rolled his eyes "No, no...don't like this song." he said to himself before turning the knob again.

            " _Nothing you could do could make me untrue to my guy,"_

"My guy!" Illya sang along before becoming content with the song on the radio and began to quietly dance in his chair; no one else was in the room and he couldn't stop himself as he hummed along to the rest of the song when a hand planted on the radio and knocked it off the shelf.

            Illya jumped before turning to Gaby whose eyes were wide awake and a irritated look was on her face as she glared at Illya.

            "I hate that song." she grumbled.

            Illya huffed from shock, immediately standing up from his seat as he looked down at Gaby as she continued to adjust her eyes to the light.

            "Gaby!" he muttered before slowly sitting down in his chair again.

            Gaby hummed, reaching up to rub her eyes only to wince in pain as she stopped her movements and huffed "What happened?" she asked.

            "You hurt your head. You've been in a coma for 3 weeks now." Illya told her.

            Gaby grumbled as she closed her eyes and turned back towards up towards the ceiling before sighing "...Napoleon?" she asked softly.

            "He is fine. Broke his arm--but he is fine." Illya informed her.

            The tiny girl nodded slowly "And you?" she asked, turning towards him again.

            Illya shrugged, his rubs still poking at him though he didn't mind the pain as much as he smiled at Gaby "I am fine. Broke some ribs, but I will be okay. As will you." he told her.

            Gaby let a soft smile out "So you say."

            Illya just stared at her, smiling--so relieved that she had awoke; if he had known a cheesy love song was the cure for her coma, he would have found her weeks ago as he reached out and brushed her bangs further away from her face.

            "When we get out of here--" Illya started saying before he was interrupted by the doctor.

            "Ms. Teller!" the doctor chimed in, walking into the room and practically pushed Illya out of the way.

            Illya stood from his chair, slightly irritated by the doctors actions as he moved away from the doctor who immediately began to examine Gaby as she remained in bed.

            "How are you feeling?" the doctor asked her.

            Gaby grumbled "Fine. I guess." she remarked.

            The doctor nodded "Good, good..." he said before turning to Illya "You're not supposed to be in here, sir. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." he insisted.

            Illya looked past the doctor and towards Gaby, having a silent conversation with her as Gaby let a soft smile out as she looked at him "It's alright, Illya." she said "We'll catch up later." she insisted.

            The Russian sighed, giving up the short lived fight as he looked at the doctor and gave him a hostile look before turning to leave, meeting the glares of the guards standing by the door.

            He wanted to hit at least one of them, his finger tapping against his thigh as he stared them down--but he wasn't going to, doing the little trick Gaby had taught him about controlling his anger by counting backwards from 10.

            Illya swallowed hard as he counted, the tapping of his finger ceased before he walked out of the room and past the guards where he slowly began to make his way back to the elevators.

            He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, his team was still alive and he knew that they were all going to bounce back quickly...it was just a matter of time and Illya wasn't sure if he could wait that long. 


End file.
